Given the level of discourse of the 1992 campaign and the "did too, did not" schoolyard-spat tone of the exchanges between Al Gore and Dan Quayle, many Americans must have envied his peace and quiet.

Although his lack of experience and policy knowledge was embarrassingly apparent in his halting answers and moments of confusion, especially compared with his hyper-rehearsed television-age yuppie rivals, Admiral Stockdale provided an extraordinary interlude to programmed politics.

With an evidently overcaffeinated Mr. Quayle bouncing from rant to rant to his right and with Mr. Gore relentlessly reeling off speech-chunks to his left, Mr. Stockdale appeared in something of the role of a bewildered grandfather who has wandered down to the rec room in search of his slippers to find himself in the middle of an impassioned teen-age debate on the merits of Ice-T. In the Heat of Battle

The great teen-age debate began with an opener by Mr. Gore that was Borgia-like in the way it slipped silently between Mr. Quayle's fifth and sixth ribs.

In the course of less than a minute, Mr. Gore managed to allude to the well-known image of Mr. Quayle as "a deer caught in the headlights," to remind viewers that he and Mr. Stockdale had served in Vietnam while Mr. Quayle did not, to conjure up memories of Mr. Quayle's humiliation in the 1988 debate when Senator Lloyd Bentsen belittled him for comparing himself to John F. Kennedy.

And that, as it turned out, set the tone for the rest of the evening. Mr. Gore made a point of looking at Mr. Quayle condescendingly, and calling him "Dan." While Mr. Quayle talked, Mr. Gore shook his head in a pantomime of disbelief, and interrupted with an endless series of "nope's,' "no's" and "did not's."

Advised just before the debate to be cheerfully aggressive, Mr. Quayle went after Mr. Gore with such terrier-like excitement that he sometimes seemed to be actually barking the words "trust" and "character."

The effect on the audience in the hall was profound. When the debate began, the several hundred people were sitting upright, bright-eyed with enthusiasm for the historic moment.

Forty minutes later, as Mr. Gore and Mr. Quayle bickered on and on, Mr. Stockdale had all but given up talking, and was pacing the stage, occasionally shaking his head in disbelief, while the members of the audience sat in slack-jawed astonishment.

During particularly lengthy bits of tit-tatting, a number of people could be seen actually holding their heads in their hands and moaning. When Mr. Quayle trotted out "trust" and "character," the collective groan in the hall was bipartisan. "Oh, my God," muttered Paul Kazlowski, the president of GTE Mobile Communications, shaking his head.

Afterwards, leaving the auditorium in a subdued state, Mr. Kazlowski summed up his feelings on the Gore-Clinton show. "It's embarrassing to think either one of these clowns -- no, don't say clowns -- these guys could end up being President."

Meanwhile, up on the stage, the bickerfest continued, even though the debate was over.

"You've got to go back and add up the time, Paul," Mr. Quayle was saying to the former Republican Party chairman Frank J. Fahrenkopf Jr., who was one of the organizers of the debate. "I mean, I'm not kidding. There were times -- especially on that abortion thing -- where I had time coming and I had a right to it, and Gore just wouldn't let me come back."

Mr. Fahrenkopf said he would certainly look into it.

As Mr. Fahrenkopf walked away, Marilyn Quayle, a chief debate adviser to her husband, walked up. "Hi, honey," the Vice-President said cheerfully. "I was just telling Frank to go back and add up who got more time." Mrs. Quayle smiled. "Absolutely," she said. "Absolutely." Does He Get It?

As Mr. Quayle stood on the stage after the debate taking the congratulations of well-wishing Republicans, a supporter raised a point.

"You did great, Dan, great," he said. "There's just one thing. This abortion thing. You've got to realize that the Democratic position -- "

"Is extreme?" Mr. Quayle said, nodding in anticipation.

"No, is supported by 72 percent of the people in this country," the man said. "You've got to drop it, Dan."

Mr. Quayle nodded politely and moved on. Before the Curtain Rises

Everyone knows that Al Gore is not a spontaneous guy. The Vice President's aides call him "Robo-Gore."

But he outdid himself today before the debate, when he showed up with his entourage to check out the stage at the Georgia Institute of Technology.

He practiced how he would put his body in position to get the best angle for himself, when the photographers took shots of the three candidates shaking hands at the end of the debate.

He even rehearsed how he would greet his wife, Tipper, when she joined him on stage to congratulate him.

By contrast, Dan Quayle breezed through without much fuss and Mr. Stockdale spent his time learning the basics about cameras and lights.

The debate organizers found Mr. Stockdale, who seemed as dazed blinking into the lights at the rehearsal as he did later at the debate, refreshingly unpolished.